Trying for the Kingdom
by Doctor Harley Quinn
Summary: [Things We Lost in the Fire 2007] After Jerry returns from rehab, he and Kelly find a new path.


**trying for the kingdom**

_disclaimer - I definitely don't own these characters and am not making money off of them. I'm just hanging out with them for a minute._

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**1.  
**People often look at them when they walk down the street together, from furtive glances to outright staring. It's the height disparity that first draws attention- barefooted, he's a full eleven inches taller than she is (she insisted on measuring)- but then people notice the apparent age gap, the body language that indicates that their attachment is not familial, and the staring starts.

The age difference isn't nearly as significant as it appears. She's years older than she looks, he's years younger than _he _looks. This is a source of annoyance for her, the fact that people dare to stare at them when they know nothing about them. "What right do they think they have?" she fumes, and he puts a hand on her shoulder, calm as always, though he can't quite stop the smile from creeping across his face. Jerry can find the humor in anything.

**2.  
**She's not stupid. She remembers the night they met, _really _met, out on the sidewalk as he unlocked his bike, how he talked about his 'children.' She was the one who took him to rehab; she was there to see how he held the children in his arms and the way he looked at Audrey. Despite the fact that she's been pretty honest with herself about how she's starting to feel for Jerry, she does not, _cannot_ resent Audrey, not after how kind she's been, how strong, how giving.

One of the resolutions she made after her recovery was to be brave, to act as though she's fearless, though she's scared of _so much,_ and she's gotten pretty good at ignoring her fear and pushing forward despite it by now. It helped her ask him if he was married that first night, even though he stared so unblinking and so intently at her that she thought for a moment that she might turn and run.

It was somehow easier to ask him directly about Audrey, on one of her visits to him while he was working through the program. And when he stared at her so unflinchingly and told her quietly "It's not like that," it was simply too hard not to believe him.

**3.  
**She loves his music. The Velvet Underground, Frank Zappa, Captain Beefheart, Screaming Lord Sutch- it's all so weird and wonderful, and she loves how much he gets into it.

She shows him Nick Cave and re-introduces him to Tom Waits, who he says he couldn't initially get into, but this time, something just clicks. They've gotten into a habit of stealing each other's CDs. It's the twenty-first century and they could just burn copies, but there's an unspoken agreement that they simply prefer to share.

**4.  
**He got out of rehab three months after he went in. Kelly had expected him to ask Audrey and the kids to come get him, but when she got the call the day before his release, she was all too glad to agree to be the one to go get him.

He hugged her for the second time when she arrived to take him home. The first time had been when she left him there three months ago. It had been an awkward hug, one-armed and nervous, and although he put on a brave face, she could feel him shaking in the brief second she spent pinned to his side. This time, though, he put both arms around her, and as she reached around to grip his back, she noted that he was solid and untrembling. The hug lasted for a few seconds, and when his arms relaxed, she took a step back, giving him a glowing smile. "You look good," she told him honestly- those deep circles beneath his eyes would never go away, but his color was good, eyes bright and alert.

"Thank you," he said, smiling. "So do you."

She's not a blusher, but she still had to take a second to tuck her hair behind her ear and fight off the bashfulness.

**5.  
**For what felt like a long time, she didn't think it was going anywhere. He was always polite to her, kind, engaged, but it all seemed so... friendly. _Only _friendly. She didn't think he knew _how _to flirt, even if he _was_ inclined. That combined with how emotionally invested he was in Audrey and the kids made her think that friendship was all she would ever have with him.

Most of the time, she was okay with that. Jerry was the sort of guy you _wanted _as a friend, loyal and thoughtful and sweet and considerate, and she might have wondered why he didn't actually _have _that many friends, except she'd been there, too. The drug was like a jealous god, demanding your attention, your focus, your obsession. Typically, non-users got pushed away, and fellow junkies were seldom more than faceless companions, people to get high with, who at most might notice if you'd passed out on your back, might turn you on your side so you didn't choke on your own vomit, but that was it. It didn't surprise her that Jerry was mostly friendless, though she doubted he'd stay that way for long. He was just too good a person.

And, though she strove to be happy and content with his friendship, sometimes, she couldn't help craving more. Sometimes, she would follow him with her eyes, and sometimes, he'd catch her at it and would stare back at her with that same intensity with which he looked at her that first night. _Be brave, _she'd think, reminding herself of her resolution, and she would hold his gaze for as long as she could.

**6.  
**Maybe the staring worked, because about a month after his relief, he finally stayed for the serenity prayer, though he didn't join her in the press of the crowd, preferring to hang back near the door with his head unbowed. He wasn't a cynic, not like the occasional newcomers who sat with crossed arms and scowled and scoffed at the shares, making everyone else uneasy and disappearing after a week or two. He just didn't like the post-meeting chitchat, was still a little uncomfortable around people, even people who understood.

She got that, and so she went for the door the moment the prayer concluded, joining him with a bright smile. He smiled back and put a hand on the small of her back, gently steering her away from the crowd and through the door.

He lifted his hand as soon as they were clear and neither of them mentioned it, but something changed that night. Where before he had rarely touched her, now it was frequent, their time together beginning and ending with warm hugs and punctuated by finger brushes, slight jostling as they walked comfortably closely down the street together, and teasing jabs in the side (these nearly always from her). She never pushed for more than he was ready to give, though she accepted what he _did _give with open arms.

**7.  
**He walks her home from work one night when he happens to be in the neighborhood. He's quiet on the way, and she is, too, enjoying his presence and the balm of the night. They stop outside of her door and share an embrace that lasts just a few seconds too long, and they don't break solidly apart as usual. They still hold one another as her head tilts back and his tilts down and they regard each other for another few seconds, and when he finally does bend down and kiss her, it feels like the first time and the millionth time, both terrifyingly thrilling and perfectly natural all at once.

**8.  
**Some of the people in their support group start watching them a little apprehensively when they begin to sit together, but she at least in this case, she understands why. One recovering addict in a relationship, you'd think, would be enough. Two, though, and things start getting serious. Two means that if one caves in, then the other will inevitably go down, too.

But that's just it. Now, in addition to trying to stay clean for their own sake, each of them knows that they have a duty to the other, too. It's not just one recovery on the line, it's both. And even in their most stressful, desperate moments, they meet eyes and it's so apparent that she would not do that to him and he wouldn't do it to her. The accountability does them good.

**9.  
**"Don't romanticize me."

He doesn't say it forcefully or aggressively- she doesn't think he even knows how. It's not even really an order. Instead, he almost sounds sad, and she's startled into looking up at him- she's washing, he's drying, so he's standing right next to her, but the look on his face makes her feel like he's galaxies away.

She nudges his hand with a dish, trying to gently call him back to her, and says, "I don't."

"Don't you?" He takes the plate and doesn't look at her, but by now she knows better than to regard his behavior as skepticism or cynicism or even self-loathing. She can tell he genuinely wants to know, and she gives the question the respect she feels it deserves, taking a moment to consider it.

"Well, you are kind of a modern-day Byronic figure," she admits at length, a little amused at the thought but still serious, and he smiles despite himself. Relieved by that smile, she adds, "But even so, I'm not romanticizing you. I never did."

"Huh," he says, his hands working slowly, methodically, turning the plate 'round as he works the cloth along the edge. "Why'd you follow me out that first night?"

"The way you talked about Brian," she answers honestly, feeling more comfortable saying it now that they've talked many times about the Burkes. "I could- I mean, it's always different for everyone, but I could at least kind of sympathize with that sense of loss. So I skipped out to talk to you. I just wanted to see if you were nice."

He doesn't say anything right away, and she decides that a little more honesty won't hurt. "And," she adds, "the first night we were both there, I noticed you and thought you were really handsome, so I had some extra incentive. But I _wasn't romanticizing you-!_" Her voice lifts and cuts off in a shriek as he dips his hand into the stream of running water and flicks a few drops of water at her face, and, not one to sit passively by, she promptly smashes two handfuls of soap bubbles into his hair in vengeance. When the impromptu water fight ends, she's gotten the worst of it, her entire front soaking wet, and he laughs so hard he has to lean against the sink for support. She doesn't think he knows how ridiculous _he _looks, with his hair sticking straight up and bubbles still clinging to his entire face like the world's most poorly-designed Santa beard, but she almost never sees him like this, so she just stands there, grinning unwillingly, until he finally recovers.

**10.  
**Audrey is pleased when Jerry starts bringing Kelly along on his visits.

Kelly is good at reading people, but even the most obtuse person could see that there is still something deep between Audrey and Jerry, a connection forged by their respective unbreakable bonds to a man Kelly never even met. Even so, when she sees them look at each other she feels nothing but a quiet serenity deep down, because she understands that she has nothing to fear. She may be the latest person to arrive to their family, broken and patched and broken and patched again, but she understands that they she is safe with them, physically and emotionally. Audrey and Jerry have something between them, but Kelly understands that it could never be a threat to her, and so she is at peace.

**11.  
**Sometimes, when he thinks he's alone, his positivity slips and she can see the grief and the weariness settle in the lines of his face, but Jerry almost never shares his sadness, and she respects him enough not to ask him to. He's not like her. She's an open book. When she's angry, everyone knows, and likewise, when she's sad, there's no hiding it.

When Mrs. James dies a mere five months after being told about her cancer and giving up on life, she cries for hours. Jerry comes by after a while, worried because she's not answering her phone, and finds her sprawled across the couch next to a pile of Kleenex, still shedding angry tears. After fiercely ascertaining that she has neither relapsed nor come to any bodily harm, he comes over and gathers her up, holding her close as she curls against him.

**12.  
**She told the truth that night. She doesn't romanticize him. Kelly is nearly thirty years old and she has learned by now that when dealing with people, it's wisest to expect the worst.

Still, it doesn't stop her from hoping for the best.

She knows that one day he may make a break for it, start using again, leave her to chase... whatever it is he has with Audrey, or just... decide that none of it feels right, that he needs a change. She hopes he doesn't. Because she likes the way she fits against him. She likes having a partner in her fight. But most of all, she likes the person he is, a balm to everyone he meets, genuinely, unpretentiously kind, and she likes knowing that if anyone in this world still has a heart, it's Jerry.

And she loves knowing that- for now at least- that heart belongs in large part to her.

**13.  
**They continue to put one foot after the other, but now, they're together, and that makes a world of difference.

**fin**

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**A/N** - Shh. Fighting through a writer's block, and I thought that working on a fic I've long been wanting to write in a fandom that doesn't exist might help. No word on whether it has yet, but at least I got this little piece out of it. The title, of course, is a reference to The Velvet Underground's beautiful song "Heroin," which I thought was perfectly appropriate.


End file.
